


Just Like Old Times

by Grimreaperchibi



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gift Fic, Greaser AU, Mentions of Blood and Off Screen Violence, Platonic Relationships, Smattering of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimreaperchibi/pseuds/Grimreaperchibi
Summary: Tord always goes to Edd to get patched up after a fight. It's a harsh reminder that things have changed between them over the years. And that some things never do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A prize for [seedlesslollipop](http://seedlesslollipop.tumblr.com) who won a piece of flash fiction from the [ew-thief-au](https://ew-thief-au.tumblr.com) 1000 follower raffle drawing. I hope you enjoy it! :)

Edd screeched as a tip-tip-tap at his window interrupted the quiet surrounding him. The pencil in his hand jerked across the paper in front of him, leaving a deep black scar in its wake. He scowled at the mark before turning to scowl at the cause. A not-so-innocent grin returned his ire as he stalked over to the window and opened it.

“Tord,” he said patiently and not at all annoyed that he’d said this spiel a hundred times already, “I have a front door. Would it really kill you to use it?”

“And miss a chance to make you screech like a startled cat? Never!” Tord replied, the same as he always did, climbing through the window. He wasn’t very graceful this time, stumbling a bit as his foot caught on the outside ledge. Edd helped steady him and earned a somewhat bloody grin for the effort.

“Oh hell,” Edd breathed, finally getting a good look at his friend. Tord’s right eye was black and partially swollen shut. A cut graced his temple and the bruising trailed over the bridge of his nose, which was crusted with the reminants of a heavy bleed. Another shiner of a bruise gaced Tord’s jaw, leaving the corner of his mouth puffy and his lower lip split. The scab there cracked when he smiled, staining his teeth, but Tord didn’t seem to notice or care. The effect was ghoulish and unsettling, an unwanted emphasis on how much the other had changed in the last few years. “Sit,” Edd commanded, trying not to sigh. “I’ll get the medkit.”

It only took a few minutes to grab the medical supplies; patching Tord up after a fight was becoming old hat at this point. By the time Edd returned, Tord had taken his prefered position on the bed, his leather jacket carefully hung on a nearby chair as he used his once white shirt to keep blood from dripping onto the carpet. He flinched a bit when Edd took a hold to his chin, but allowed his head to be manipulated without protest. Edd tsked under his breath again before starting to work.

“So...who did you mix with tonight?” he asked, carefully cleaning the cut near Tord’s swollen eye.

“Thomas.” Edd stopped and stepped back to glare in open disapproval. A somewhat guilty look crossed Tord’s face as he hurried to explain. “It was a fair one,” he said, holding his hands up to show off the bruised and split knuckles there. “Just the two of us--wrong place at the wrong time, you know? Didn’t even really have time to settle into it. Called it a draw because some bird called the cops to bust us before we did more than clip each other a few times. I doubt he’s feeling any real pain, depending on how drunk he’d gotten by now. Idiot probably even thinks he’s won...” he trailed off, look turning sullen as his gaze dropped.

Edd stared at his friend for a moment longer before resuming his work. “You know I don’t like it when you two fight,” he admonished quietly.

“It’s not my fault he’s so prickly,” Tord defended.

“No, but you don’t have to constantly poke at him, either.”

Tord grinned again, causing more blood to well from his lip. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Nothing he could say would change Tord’s mind at that point, so Edd stopped trying. The other never had been one to listen in the first place; he certainly didn’t listen any better when it came to Tom. Not that Tom was ever any better... Instead, Edd worked quietly and with learned effeciency. He cleaned out the cuts on Tord’s face, taping the one near his eye closed before moving on to his hands. Tord took the hint and remained quiet himself. Only the occasional hiss of pain marred the silence of the room until Edd finished smoothing the last of the bandages down.

“I’m going to go get some ice for your lip,” Edd said as he put away the unused supplies. “I think I still have some spare clothes that fit you in the bottom drawer.” It was probably a lost cause, but... “...Have you had dinner yet?”

Tord waved the question off. “You’re going to try and feed me regardless of what I say, so why ask?” He flexed his hands a couple times, testing the bandages before reaching for his jacket. “Mind if I smoke?”

Edd did, but it would also be the fastest way to get Tord to calm down. “Just...do it outside the window. And you can rebandage your hands yourself if you get ash all over them.”

Tord gave a jaunty salute. Edd rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room, returning the medical supplies to their space before continuing into the kitchen. While food warmed in the microwave, he put together an ice bag, wrapping it in a towel to further protect it. Not that he expected either to be of use. Tord may have always come to Edd to get bandaged up after a fight, but he rarely stayed long enough to finish even that task. He'd become so angry, so distrustful of people in the last few years. Even though they had been friends since a young age, Edd sometimes felt like the person in front of him was a stranger he’d never known. He felt a pang of loss at the change and ignored it like he always did. It wasn't his place to say anything, after all. He waited out the ten minutes it took to let Tord leave without the need of an awkward goodbye in resigned silence before returning to the room.

Yet when Edd pushed open the door, a lingering trail of snuffed out smoke wasn’t the only thing awaiting him. Tord was still there, sprawled out on the bed, feet still hanging off the edge and sound asleep. He’d traded out his stained shirt for a new one, the bold red drawing attention to the discoloration of his otherwise pale skin. The sight stopped Edd cold; he couldn’t remember the last time Tord had fallen asleep in front of him, in front of anyone, actually.

A wave of nostalgia washed over Edd. Suddenly, they were eight again, having a sleep over after a hard day of playing and nothing had changed yet between them. Then again, maybe the important things hadn't..

Edd sighed, firmly refusing to admit there was any fondness in the sound. He set the food and ice aside. One leg at a time, he swung Tord’s feet around so that he was laid out properly before he threw a blanket over the other. The only reponse any of his actions received as a small contented sigh when the blanket settled. Edd smiled slightly, taking the food and ice back to the kitchen. If Tord was comfortable enough to pass out in his bed, Edd saw no reason to wake him.

**Author's Note:**

> Want more writing/music/bad fangirl antics? I've got a semi-NSFW [tumblr](http://grimreaperchibi.tumblr.com) where all the weirdness gets dumped.


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